Walk Beside Me
by TsubakiTwilight
Summary: There were hundreds of other orphans and bastard children living in the slums of Italy, Gokudera Hayato realized as he stared down at the smirking idiot underneath him. "… That was quite the entrance you made, Silver… please, don't move – I kinda like having you on top of me " It was just his luck that he was saddled with the most annoying one of them all. AU! OC! Slow burn-ish!
1. Chapter 1

There were hundreds of other orphans and bastard children living in the slums of Italy, Gokudera Hayato realized as he stared down at the smirking idiot underneath him. "… That was quite the entrance you made, Silver… please, don't move – I kinda like having you on top of me~" It was just his luck that he was saddled with the most annoying one of them all. AU! OC! Slow burn-ish!

 **I.**

Hayato Gokudera stumbled through the darkness – one hand placed firmly on the brick wall running beside him, the other clutching his undoubtedly bleeding side. He sucked in a breath when he foot caught on something, sending him sprawling to the ground.

" _Fuck_ …," he hissed through clenched teeth. He clenched his eyes shut as his injury flared up in pain from the impact.

After the pain subsided enough, Hayato pulled himself up and off the ground. At least it wasn't raining right now, that would have made everything ten times worse than they already were.

"… Why the fuck did I go a pick a fight with those drunken bastards for?!" He let out a frustrated sigh and leaned tiredly against the wall behind him. "Definitely _not_ my smartest idea…," he muttered, letting out a self-depriving laugh.

Fuck… he was getting tired. He removed his hand from his side and noticed it was coated in a dark red color.

"Damn…," he hissed out, "not good."

He really should keep moving, but now the world was growing fuzzier and his body was getting heavier and he was _so_ tired and this alley was completely empty and safe and-

A little rest couldn't hurt, right?

 **II.**

Hayato is awoken by a kick to his face.

He lets out a shout of pain and surprise as his body hits the ground – his mind blearily noting that it was early the next morning.

"Well, well… if it ain't da half-breed rat from yesserday. Had a nice nap, Half-breed? Sorry I had ta wake ya so roughly… but ya know how it goes, yeah? Can't have ya off in dream land if I'm gonna teach ya a lesson!"

Hayato pushes himself off the ground and spits on the man's shoes. "F… Fuck off…," he pants, glaring hatefully at the man standing above him.

The man simply throws his head back and laughs in response. "Ya sure got a mouth on ya, I'll give ya dat, Brat!" The man kneels down and takes a hold of Hayato's head. "Still, dat wasn't nice what you did to us yesserday, you know? Looks like I'll hafta teach ya how ta respect ya elders!" The man slams Hayato's head into the wall behind them before pushing the boy back onto the ground.

Hayato yells in pain when the man slams his head into the brick wall and he lets out a heavy breath when his face is pressed into the alleyway ground. His rage builds as the man speaks once more.

"Ya first lesson, Brat, is how ta apologizes to ya elders," the man says from above him. "Now… if ya lick my boot nice and clean… I _might_ forgive ya for burning me with dynamite yesserday…"

"G-Go fuck yourself, B-Bastard…!"

The man lets out a faux-sigh of disappointment before raising Hayato's head and slamming it into the ground again. Ignoring Hayato's muffled cries of pain and swearing, the man says, "I don't think ya heard me very well, Half-Breed, I _said_ : Clean. Off. My. Boots. Or do ya have a hearing problem, huh?!"

Face down on the ground, Hayato slowly inches his hands towards the front pocket of his jeans. He prays to a God he doesn't believe in that the Bastard keeps running his mouth and _doesn't_ notice what he's about to do; he also thanks whatever (possible) deity is up there for making this particular morning a humid, muggy one. "… _I_ don't think _you_ heard _me_ , Bastard… _Fuck. Off._ "

Hayato drags a homemade stick of dynamite out of his pocket and flings it at the Bastard's face, the fuse already lit thanks to a chemical formula Hayato had specifically concocted coating the fuse and the ring on his hand, which had the same rough texture as emery paper – the stuff you strike a match against.

As the bomb explodes in the Bastard's face, Hayato has a split-second to lament the last of that particular dynamite in his possession before he pulls the Bastard's hand off him, scrambles to his feet, and starts booking it down the alley.

Once at the far end of the alley way, Hayato does not stop running and continues straight – ignoring the various cries of shock and anger from other pedestrians and drivers as he barrels onto the busy road and right across it. He veers a left once on the other side of the street and takes another alley on his right before turning left into an adjacent alley.

He continues this trend of alternating which way he turns for a while longer, until his legs give out from exertion and his lungs are damn near on fire.

Panting heavily, he bends over – placing his hands on his knees – as he tries to catch his breath and calm his racing heart.

' _Th… That was_ close _,'_ he thinks with a grimace, _'if that Bastard had brought along anyone else… I probably wouldn't have made it out of there like I did…'_

He straightens once he has regained his breath and peers around at his location – only now truly realizing that he's completely and utterly fucking _lost_. He curses aloud and mentally debates whether or not he should try and backtrack to where he was, but ultimately decides against doing so; after all, if _he's_ lost then there's no way that Bastard can find him so easily.

The distant sound of thunder rolls across the sky and Hayato feels the first drops of rain against his flushed skin.

He curses once more and begins walking briskly down the alley. Perhaps he could find a doorway or some kind of awning to take shelter under, at least until the rain subsided. A heartbeat later and the rain is coming down in sheets, causing Hayato to swear again.

He breaks into a sprint, eyes darting every-which way in an attempt to find something, _anything_ , that could protect him from the rain, even slightly, and he turns a corner and abruptly finds himself crashing into something warm and hard.

Whoever he's just ran into lets out a sound as the wind is knocked out of their lungs, and the two of them go crashing down onto the, ever-growing, wet pavement.

"Shit…," Hayato growls as he glares down at the person underneath him. "… Watch where you're fucking going next time!"

Green meets green and the only sound for a moment is the rain falling around them.

"… That was quite the entrance you made, Silver…," the person below him purrs with a smirk. "Please, don't move – I kinda like having you on top of me~"

Hayato splutters for a solid good minute before getting his bearings and practically _leaping_ off the person. "Wh-Wh-What!?"

The person follows suit and stands once Hayato is off of them.

He is young, Hayato notes, about one or two years older than him – taller too, with golden-tan skin and cream-colored hair that's now plaster to the person's face due to the rain. They're dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and denim vest combo with baggy cargo pants and sneakers. A red bandana – the same color as the dried blood on Hayato's shirt – is threaded in the person's hair – resting just above a face still sporting that fucking _smirk_ , green eyes, and a scar along the person's right cheek.

"Aww," the person coos, smirk still firmly plastered on his lips, "you're blushing. How _cute_ ~"

Hayato bristles in a mix of anger, embarrassment, and irritation and snaps, " _Shut up_!"

The person simply chuckles in response, placing his hands into his pant pockets. "What will you do if I don't?"

The question brings Hayato up short. He's out of dynamite at the moment and doesn't know how well-trained – or untrained – the person standing before him is at fighting. He also doesn't know if the person is with other people or not; or even if the person has some kind of weapon on them.

In short, Hayato is facing a lot of unknowns and what-ifs.

Therefore, he does the only thing he can do at the moment – no matter how much it fucking hurts his pride – he glares harshly at the other person before turning around and stalking off.

That was their first meeting.

 **III.**

The two meet again, this time a few months later.

Hayato Gokudera had successfully joined the ranks of the Schiavone Family, a relatively new Family that has only been around for the past fifty or so years.

The Schiavone Family was established by a young Italian-American immigrant who had been enthralled by the romanticism of organized crime thanks to Hollywood and the media's presentations of the 'typical' mobster. At the tender age of eighteen, the man had left the Land of Opportunity and moved to the Birthplace of the Mafia to live out his dream.

He was killed only a year later.

His dream, however, did not die so easily.

This young man had befriended a well-connected Mafioso, one who was enraptured by the idealism of the young man and after the young man's death, the Mafioso created the Schiavone Family in tribute for his friend; a while the Family itself was small and young, they had an iron-grip on the precious jewels market, toting some of the world's best mines and refineries in all of Italy.

It was this Family that Hayato had managed to impress and get accepted into, he thinks with pride.

He stands in the middle of a tastefully decorated room. The walls were a neutral dark-gray bordering on black color with a light sandal wood floor and a large glass window on the far wall. There were scenic paintings of meadows and the ocean hanging on the walls of the room with brightly potted flowers in crystal and sapphire crusted vases framing the door of the room. There were only three pieces of furniture in the space: an ornately carved desk – most likely made of cherry wood – that was embedded with black opals and diamonds, a plush, leather chair situated beyond the desk with gold threading, and a single wooden chair, meant to intimidate and unnerve whoever sat in it just by the sheer plainness off it compared to the rest of the room.

"Please, sit." A man dressed in a sharp, white Armani suit gestures to the bare chair. He stands behind the desk with an unreadable expression on his face.

Hayato obliges and takes the seat.

The two occupants of the room regard one another for a few minutes before the man breaks eye contact to take a seat on the leather chair on the opposite side of the desk. "… Welcome to the Schiavone Family. As you are well aware, I am the current Head of the Family, Antonio Schiavone." The man pauses for a moment before intwining his fingers together, resting his elbows on the desk placed before him. "Let me be frank with you, Child. I did not want to allow you into this Family," he raises a hand to stop Hayato from responding, " _I_ am speaking, and when _I_ am speaking, you will _not_ interrupt me, _understand_?"

It is only when Hayato grits his teeth and nods once does Antonio continue.

"I did not want to let you into this Family as bringing someone like _you_ into my Family will have dire consequences that will undoubtedly affect the Schiavone's repuation and credibility amongst the other Families; which I have been trying – and successfully manging - to avoid since we are so relatively new in the mafia... However, a well-respected... partner of my Family... requested that I take you in. This person has been an excellent informant and transporter for my Family for many years and I would be remiss to deny him this one favor. That being said, I _expect_ you to do what you are told when you are told, understand? One word of _any_ sort of back talk or disrepect will not be tolerated. Am I clear?"

Hayato nods once more, anger brewing in his eyes.

"... Good... report to Lucian. He will be in charge of your assignments and will watch over your development. Remember: He is my eyes and ears on you. I _will_ know if you step out of line. Dimissed." The Head of the Schiavone waves a hand.

Hayato is out the door before Antonio's hand is halfway through the gesture.

 **IV.**

Hayato growls lowly in his throat as he stalks down the hallways of the Schiavone mansion.

Of _course_ he wouldn't get accepted into a Family based on his merit and strengths alone! Of _course_ the Schiavone wouldn't _willingly_ want someone like him! Of _course_ he should have expected something like this to happen!

Although...

His steps slow as the logical part of his mind begins to take apart and piece together what the Head of the Schiavone told him.

 _Someone_ helped him get 'accepted' into this Family and despite their realatively short history, the Schiavone were pretty wealthy and were somewhat powerful in certain spheres. Whoever had enough sway of the Schiavone Boss must be pretty powerful themselves... and they must have also met Hayato before.

Perhaps they had seen him fighting and were impressed by his tactics and battle prowess? That _could_ explain why they suggested that the Schiavone Head take him in... However, that led to another question: Why hadn't this unknown benefactor taken Hayato for themselves?

' _Perhaps they are a solo assassin or something that can't 'afford' to take somone like me in...'_ Hayato thinks with a sneer.

Well, whatever the reason, it doesn't change the fact that he's here now – an official member of the Schiavone. He straightens and resumes walking, head held a bit higher now that his anger has – mostly – subsided. First things first, he has to find this 'Lucian' person.

 **V.**

Lucian Nesca, Hayto decides, is a huge pain-in-the-ass.

The man is old – most likely in his late fifties to early sixties - with long white hair that's pulled into a ponytail and blue eyes. He has a neatly trimmed beard and side-burns framing his face and has a particularly nasty-looking scar spanning the length of his face from the right side of his temple all the way down to the left half of his jawline. He is tall and well-bulit with bulging muscles covered by a loose, casual shirt and jeans combo.

He is also _the_ most annoying and loud person Hayato has ever met.

"Hahaha! So you're the new kid, huh? If I'm being completely honest... you don't look _that_ strong to me!" Lucian throws his head back with a bellowing laugh. "Ah... but I guess that's my job, to make you look less like an irritated kitten and into a dangerous tiger!"

Hayato scowls lightly and somehow manages to bite back the retort on the tip of his tongue.

Lucian laughs once more. "I see Singore Schiavone's words are already starting to take root. Good." He crosses his arms and adds, "The first thing you've got to learn in the Mafia is respect. If you don't respect those stronger than you, then you're going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere, understand?"

Hayato nods, mind filing the information away.

"Good... I won't be teaching you much today – since it's your first day here and all, so think of today as a sort of... orientation. I'll be showing you around the mansion and will be introducing you to the other people in my department – which you're now apart of." Lucian pauses before letting out a bark of laughter. "My bad! I almost forgot to tell you a little bit about me! Let's see... you already know my name but not what I do for the Schiavone, huh? I guess you could call me Head of Security or something along those lines. I handle the training of all the new bodyguards and security personnel, as well as the computer geeks and hackers. I basically run the entire Schiavone's security; against both physical and digital threats. Now," Lucian claps a hand on Hayato's shoulders and begins steering the child further down the hallway, "before we get too far into the tour... lemme introduce you to an extra special person! He's our top non-Family transporter and independent jack-of-all-trades and normally he'd be out on a run for us or off on another job but he's here for a quick session of R&R."

The two step out of the hallway and into a large foyer area which is just as lavish and jewel-encrusted as the rest of the manor. Several servants are dusting some of the large porcelain vases and pots lining the walls of the foyer while a small group of well-dressed people – sans one _particular_ person – mill about by the front doors.

"Artem!" Lucian waves his free arm and garners the attention of the only underdressed person talking in the group.

"Ah, Lucy!" Artem returns the wave and politely excuses himself from the group before making his way towards Lucian and Hayato. "It's been a while," Artem says, throwing his arms around the older man in a quick hug, "how have you been?"

Lucian lets out a bellowing laugh and claps the other on the shoulder. "I've been good, Kid! I just wanted to introduce you to my newest project before you left."

Artem slides his gaze over towards Hayato and smirks in pleasure as recognition sparks in the other's eyes. "No need to introduce us, Lucy, we've already met, haven't we, Silver?"

"Y-Y- _You_?! What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Bastard?!" Hayato jerks back – cheeks flushed with anger – and points an accusatory finger at Artem.

Artme tilts his head and asks, "Didn't Lucy tell you? I sometimes work for the Schiavone Family!" He pauses and smirks once more. "... That means we'll be seeing _a lot_ more of one another, Silver~ Please... treat me nicely, okay?"


	2. Chapter 2

**I.**

Lucian Nesca will readily admit that he's an old man.

Born in 1959 – 1969 he tells all the beautiful women and men he meets, he'll fib his age a bit if it meant having a warm companion in his bed that evening – in the heart of Sicily, his childhood was surprisingly normal and mundane for a man that would eventually become a high-ranking member of the Mafia.

His parents were of the prim and proper Catholic type and made sure that their small family of three attended mass every Sunday and prayed before each meal and Lucian was your average, every day kid growing up. He hated math and history – boring subjects with all those numbers and dates and _facts_ – and loved physical education and home economics – the former being considered an 'acceptable' pastime while the latter was a guilty pleasure of his for the longest time, though nowadays, everyone seemed to fall head-over-heels for a man that could cook and, boy, could Lucian Nesca _cook_!

He got okay grades in the various subjects his parents – and society – deemed important enough for him to take and he never complained or spoke up about things that he wanted to do or things he liked.

He learned early on in life that if he wanted to get anywhere in life, all he had to do was shut-up and do what he was told.

And so, that was how the first half of his life went – blindly obeying whatever Society and those in power told him to do.

And then he met Christiano Schiavone. A not-Sky who had spent barely a year with his Sky before losing said Sky to the cruel reality that was the Mafia.

It was in the throngs of Christiano's Dissonance – his Sky's death still fresh and raw in his mind and Flame despite the time that had passed – that they met and Lucian felt something in him… awaken at the sheer amount of agony and loss displayed on _Signore_ Schiavone's face.

What followed was a whirlwind of Flames and explanations and blood and conversations and training and sweat and discovery and tears and completion all condensed within the span of a few years.

Thus the Schiavone Family was established within the influential and powerful circles of the Mafia.

And thus, Christiano passed away a few months later.

He was buried with the bullet still in his brain and heart.

Lucian grieved; of course he did, for Christiano was the one who removed the self-inflicted shackles Lucian had placed on himself and showed him what it meant to be alive, what it meant to _be_ someone in the world. Yet, time continued his ruthless march forward and soon, it was Christiano's young son and heir that he reported to, that he called _Signore_.

Antonio could not be more different from his late-father.

While Christiano was a born-and-bred Mafioso, the man had been softened by his time with his Sky and it showed in the way Christiano ran his businesses and Family.

Antonio did not have that softness.

Lucian wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse – for whom, he wasn't entirely sure.

Young Antonio ran the Family like he ran his businesses, with a cold and detached manner, as if the world was nothing more than an equation and, God forbid, if something went wrong within the equation.

Lucian realized that his habit of praying before bed returned only after Antonio came into power.

Had Lucian not have had the childhood he had, had he had been a less controlled man, he might have pointed out the glaring differences between the current Head of the Schiavone and the previous Head. Then he might have been killed for his insubordination.

However, Lucian knew when to shut-up and listen.

So that's what he did.

He kept his head down and did his job.

And then he met a scraggly, little child named Artem who possessed a smile that reminded him of a tiger stalking its prey and a mind as sharp as a knife and as fast as a computer and broken Flames that sung out a song of betrayal and Dissonance.

Lucian wanted to take that kid under his wing, yet something in Artem's green, _green_ eyes told him that the kid had everything under control despite the dismal state his Flames were in. And Artem left after the job that had brought them together was finished.

They kept in touch though.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

 **II.**

Years later, Artem calls him up one day, out of the blue.

" _Sooo…,"_ the Kid begins in lieu of an actually greeting, _"I met this interesting kid the other day. He was kinda cute in a non-threatening, kitten-like way."_

"Ahaha! And what? You want me to take this Kid in like some kind of stray or something?"

" _Aww~! Don't sound so hesitant, Lucy! You also enjoy the kiddies I send your way!"_

"Yeah, because you have the uncanny ability to find geniuses in the middle of the slums!"

Lucian could practically _hear_ the shrug Artem did. _"Well, what can I say, Lucy. Geniuses are just attracted to me I guess!"_

"Ha! That's the truth! … So, what's this Kid's name and poison?"

" _Hayato Gokudera and Bombs."_

 _That_ gave Lucian pause.

"… Isn't that the name of that supposed half-breed that's been going around trying to get into a Family?"

" _The one and the same~!"_

"You do know that _Signore_ Schiavone is not going to be happy about bringing someone like that into the Family."

" _Well then, it's a good thing that I'm currently with your boss_ and _that he's agreed to taking in that 'half-breed'!"_

And _that_ got Lucian doubling over in laughter.

He could just picture it: straight-laced and serious Antonio trying in vain to dismiss the veritable hurricane that was Artem before finally succumbing to the Kid's endless stubbornness, energy, and silver-tongue.

" _He's gonna show up at the mansion in three months. I'm positive that he'll do well under your tutelage, Lucy!"_


End file.
